


Imagine If

by reciprocityfic (orphan_account)



Category: Dancing with the Stars (US) RPF, Maksyl - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Maksyl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 22:54:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3465056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/reciprocityfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of prompt-based oneshots about Maks and Meryl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see! *waves*
> 
> Love and thanks to you all, xo.

**[otpprompts](http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/):  _Imagine your OTP playing twister and ending up in a really awkward position._**

* * *

 

"You better wipe that grin off of your face."

"What was that, babe? I couldn’t really hear you."

"I said,  _you better wipe that grin off of your face_ ,” she growled, her voice muffled by the cotton fabric of his sweatpants.

"What grin?" he asked coyly, ignoring the smile that was taking up  _at least_  half of his face, judging by what she saw when she managed to peek up.  ”Charles, am I grinning?”

Charlie just laughed.

(Charlie had just been laughing for the past three minutes.  She was about to kill both these men.)

"Spin the damn spinner, Charlie," she grumbled.

"Why so eager to move on?" he drawled.  He paused, and she could  _hear_  it, in his silence.  That gloating, smug tone that would color his next words, signaling that he was enjoying this too much for her liking.

"Maksim," she cautioned, drawing out the last syllable of his name.

He began, lazily, teasingly.

"Could it be that you’re bothered by…"

” _Maks._ ”

"Our  _position_?”

"I’ll bite, I swear to God."

He scoffed, “You wouldn’t dare.”

” _Try_ me, Chmerkovskiy.”

"You know, Mer," Charlie tried to choke out, between chuckles.  "You could move if you just forfeited the game."

"And lose to this asshole?" she protested. "No, thank you."

Maks’ laugh burst from his chest, harmonizing with Charlie’s.

"I just want you to know I’m going to stab both of you once I win this game."

"You’re so cute when you’re competitive," Maks cooed.

"Don’t patronize me," she snapped. "Charlie,  _spin_.”

"You know, princess, this was  _your_ idea.”

"Don’t remind me, Maks."

"And me?" Maks sighed.

"Charlie, spin the  _damn spinner_.”

"I’m kind of…enjoying this, if I do say so myself."

"Maks, we’re not going to have sex for  _months_  if you don’t watch yourself.  I’m not kidding.”

"We should play this game more often."

” _Charles Allen White Junior,_ if you do not  _spin_  that  _fricking spinner_  in the next  _three fricking seconds,_ so help me  _God…”_

Just then, Charlie stopped laughing, and took a breath.

"Oops," Maks breathed.

” _What?”_ she implored, unable to see around because of her predicament.

"Hi, Clay!" Charlie exclaimed.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," she murmured to herself.

Her brother cleared his throat.

"Maks?" he questioned.

"Yes, Clay?

"Why is my sister’s face in your crotch?"

Charlie broke out into giggles again.

"I mean if, like…erotic Twister is a thing with you two…"

"Oh my  _God_ ,” she moaned.  ”I’m moving.  Tonight.  I’ll find a whole new family.”

"…then who am I to stop you?  But save it for after dark,  _alone_ , please.  Not in the family room in the afternoon on Christmas day.  Think of the  _children_.”

The laughs Maks had been half-holding in since Clayton had started speaking broke from his chest in echoing guffaws, and Maks collapsed, back hitting the mat with a soft slap.  Meryl hopped up immediately.

” _Hah_! I  _won_!You put me through the Twister game from Hell,” she exclaimed, pointing down at her boyfriend, still shaking from laughter on the floor, “and I  _fricking won_!”

He reached up and grabbed her hand, pulling her down on top of him and wrapping his arms around her waist.  Her face was aligned with his this time, as opposed to his junk, thankfully.  But he had a mischievous glint in his brown eyes that let her know he would tease her about this for a good while.

"I fricking hate you," she groaned.

"I fucking love you," he countered.

The corners of her mouth turned up in spite of everything, her heart melted in spite of her anger.  She exhaled, and stared down at his beautiful face, his grin still wide.

She kissed him in spite of herself.

*     *     *

Later that night, at dinner, he brought her hand to his lips, and then leaned over to her ear.

"What your brother was saying earlier?  About erotic Twister?  By ourselves?  I could get on board with that."

She pulled away, and slapped his arm playfully.

"I said months, buddy.  Remember?"

"I could change your mind," he smirked.

"You want to bet?"

*     *     *

When they left her parents’ house and got back to her condo, they  _did_  make that bet.

And  _he_ won that game.


	2. Rain

From [otpprompts](http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/): Imagine your OTP dancing in the rain at night in a city park.

* * *

 

“You know, we can’t go to the restaurant like this.”

“It’s okay.  We can get takeout on the way home.  This is nice, yeah?”

“It would be nice if it wasn’t  _raining._ ”

“No, the rain makes it romantic.  You’re a girl.  You’re supposed to know these things.  You know, The Notebook and stuff.”

"I hope this means I have 365 letters waiting for me at home."

"Um.  About that."

“I’m just giving you a hard time.  This is… _really_ nice.  This is wonderful.”

“This is amazing.  I miss dancing with you, all the time.”

“I thought you were tired of dancing.”

“I’d dance for the rest of my life, if I got to dance with you.”

"Why?"

"You know why."

"Sometimes I like to hear you say it."

"Well, dancing with you isn’t the same as dancing with other pros, or  _anyone_ , really.  Dancing with you is different.  It’s more.  And I can't accurately…put it into words, but I feel it inside.”

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." 

“You know, it would be easier to dance if there was music.”

“Is that a knock on my leading skills?”

“Oh, just hum me something.”

“Fine.”

_“Oh_.”

“What?  Is my humming that bad?”

“No.  It’s just…this is my favorite song.”

“I know.  For you, princess.  Always for you.”

*             *             *

On an early April evening, as twilight is just beginning to settle over New York City, Cooper Williams, a banker in Lower Manhattan, decided to take a scenic walk home from work through Hudson River Park. Unfortunately, gentle raindrops started to fall from the sky.  Cooper began to jog along, in a sudden hurry, rummaging through his briefcase for a dispensable folder to shield him from the water.  When he looked up again, he paused, struck by a couple holding each other in the middle of the path, swaying in small circle.  Although they were both quite drenched, they were seemingly in no hurry to get out of the rain.

They were slow-dancing in one of the first warm, spring showers of the season.

Cooper thought it was odd. But when they turned and he saw their faces, his heart warmed. They were smiling gently, gazing at each other like they held the most precious thing in the world in their arms. Every once in a while, the woman would giggle softly, and the man’s smile would grow brighter.  There was quite a size difference between them, with the woman’s head barely reaching the man’s shoulder.  But it seemed to fit them quite well.  

They looked like a picture, or a movie.  But these two were better, because these two were real.  These two were in love.  Cooper smiled.  Watching them made him feel light.  It made him want to surprise his wife with a bouquet of flowers when he got him, to hold her a little tighter as they slept next to each other.

The woman nuzzled her head into the man’s chest, and giggled, breaking the man out of his trance. A part of him wanted to stay and watch them finish their dance, but he also felt guilty.  Like he was intruding on a moment that should have belonged only to them.  

So Cooper dropped his gaze, wrapping his jacket more tightly around him, and began to continue.   When he raised his eyes again, their faces caught his attention.  They both looked vaguely familiar,  but he couldn’t place them.  So he went on.

As he passed them more closely, he caught a snippet of a song the man was humming to the woman.  Cooper recognized the melody, but the tempo was slower than he remembered.  His teenage daughter had blasted a quick, electronic version in the car all summer.

As the man jogged home, the lyrics suddenly popped into his head.

_you lift my heart up when the rest of me is down  
you, you enchant me even when you’re not around_


	3. Announcement

**otpprompts : Imagine that Person A is pregnant, but they aren’t sure how to tell Person B. Then, when the two of them are having a cute/romantic moment, Person A hugs B and buries their face into B’s chest and whispers “You’re going to be a great parent.”**

* * *

 

It was a year and a half into their marriage, and they weren’t trying to have a kid.

It wasn’t that they didn’t want one; they did, undoubtedly. It’s just, they hadn’t even been married two years, and she wanted to just _be_ with him for a little bit, before everything got hectic again. They had minimal time together before their marriage, and now she had an excuse to drop things and be with him that she hadn’t in the past. People were much more accommodating when she said “I have to go see him, he’s my husband,” than they had been when her statement was, “I have to go see him, he’s my very serious boyfriend.”

But apparently to most people, one and a half years of marriage was long overdue for a child, and now interviewers and paparazzi and family members were all asking the same question.

_"When’s the baby coming?”_

The question was even more prevalent since Charlie and Tanith had their first baby - a positively _beautiful_ little girl - eight months ago. And every time she was asked, she’d turn her head, smile shyly, and shrug, murmuring, “When it’s time.”

So they weren’t trying to have a kid. Though she had stopped taking the pill, just so everything could be in check when they did want it to happen.

And when she thought about it, it turned out they were _laughably_ bad at not trying. She couldn’t count the number of times when he had reached over to his nightstand to grab a condom and found the box, which seemed to run out too quickly and take too long to replace, empty, mumbling “ _Shit,_ ” under his breath.

And then they would pause, stare at each other for two seconds before crashing their mouths back together, both thinking the same thing.

_“Fuck that, we’re not stopping now. It’ll be okay. It always has before.”_

Yeah, she knew that was dumb. But she spent her high school sex ed class catching up on math homework on which she was perpetually behind, and he probably slept through most of his.

So she couldn’t say she was surprised when her period was late and her boobs got super sore, and when she started to eat _everything in sight_ and sleep _as much as possible_ while still being a functional human being.

And she couldn’t say she was surprised when she looked down at the pregnancy test in her hand and saw a little pink plus sign staring up at her.

She smiled, because although it hadn’t been planned, having a baby with him was the best thing she could possibly imagine. Being with him, starting _their_ family – it was all she ever wanted.

And her heart swelled ten sizes when she thought about his reaction. If there was one person on Earth who would be more excited about this baby than she was, it was him.

_How_ to tell him, though?

She was quite tempted to just thrust the test in his hands as soon as he walked through the door this afternoon, but she felt like it should be more special. She knew how important family was to him, how he had longed for a child for years. She wanted to do something for him that would just add to his excitement.

She stared at the test in her hands.

Should she wrap it? Bake a cake? Buy balloons? She grabbed her phone and googled pregnancy announcement ideas, but everything she found seemed either too complicated or too twee and gaudy for his tastes.

She wandered around their house for the rest of the afternoon thinking, twirling the test between her fingers and grinning whenever she caught a glimpse of it out of the corner of her eye, absentmindedly rubbing her hand over her stomach.

She finally decided to wait a little bit; his birthday was in eight days, and what better present could she give him than news of their baby? She would make him his favorite dinner, buy a nice wine that she would smugly refuse to drink, and then give him a little wrapped box over dessert, that would contain the positive pregnancy test. (That wasn’t weird, was it? Wrapping it for a week? She would google that, too.)

So she stowed the test in a box of old skating stuff that he would never look at. She could already feel anticipation building in the pit of her stomach, and worried about waiting a little. But she felt confident in her ability to keep the secret. It was only a week. She could make it a _week_.

She made it two days.

They went out to lunch in LA on Saturday, and were recognized by a mom and her toddler son and daughter. The mother seemed to know about skating, and fawned over her, which was different; the middle aged women tended to flock to him in droves. So while they talked about Meryl’s favorite tournament, Maks kept the kids occupied. They fell in love with him instantly; the girl giggled incessantly as Maks picked her up and swung her around, and the boy stared at him in awe as he complimented his little train toy. Meryl paid mind to her fan, but a large part of her attention was devoted to watching Maks out of the corner of her eye and absolutely _bursting_ at the fact that he was _wonderful_ with children.

Her soul _sang_ as she observed him with the two little ones, and she put her hand over their little one and patted, as if trying to signal to them.

_“Your papa is perfect. You’re going to love him so much. We’re so lucky to have him, you and me.”_

The woman wrapped up her conversation with Meryl with a few pictures, and then the family bid the couple goodbye, the little girl waving back at Maks with tears in her eyes, upset that she had to tell him goodbye. Maks waved back, with a grin and a laugh.

Meryl couldn’t stop staring at him. He gave her a suspicious glance.

“What?”

The only thing she could do was shake her head, as she felt her own tears welling up. She inhaled sharply and threw her arms around his torso in a tight hug.

“What, Meryl?” he asked, concern coloring his voice, embracing her and smoothing her hair gently.

She began to cry into his chest.

“What is it, baby? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him, sniffling into his chest. “It’s nothing.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“I’m just…you’re,” she stuttered. “You’re so…”

He giggled just slightly.

“Spit it out, princess.”

She squeezed him even tighter, snuggling her face against his shirt.

And she said it.

“You’re going to be a great dad.”

She felt him stop breathing, and even though she knew he was fine, she let him go and backed up a step, just to make sure.

He was staring down at her, jaw open, tears in his eyes.

“Maks?” she murmured tentatively.

“You’re…we’re…we did…I’m going… _we’re_ going…”

He needed help, obviously, so she took one of his hands and placed it on her stomach, caught his eyes and whispered, “ _Yes_.”

He gave her the most breathtaking smile she’d ever seen, before his bottom lip began to quiver and he gathered her into his arms again and began to sob, openly on the streets of LA. She squeezed him to her, letting her own tears spill over.

He never took his hand off her stomach.

“I love you,” he said, pressing his lips into her hair. “I love you so much, baby. I love you so much. I’m so happy.”

“I love you, too,” she murmured, pressing a light kiss against his chest. “I love you more than anything. This is so perfect, Maks. I’m so excited.”

They held each other for a few more moments, still crying. Then Maks sighed, took his hand and slipped it under her loose shirt. He drummed his fingers against her skin.

“Hi, baby,” he whispered. “I can’t wait to meet you. Your papa loves you with his entire heart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love and thanks to you all, xo.


	4. Come On Over (grey)

**From** **otpprompts** **:** _**Imagine person A and person B are neighbors in an apartment building, and person A only moved in recently. They haven’t spoken much, but on the night of a thunderstorm, person B receives a knock on their door from person A, who is apparently afraid of lightning. Though they’ve only spoken a few times before, person A comes up with some ridiculous excuse for person B to let them stay over for a while, and person B agrees (begrudgingly or not). What happens next is up to you.** _

* * *

 

When she woke up this morning, had someone told her that by this evening she would end up in the arms of the tall, strong, strange,  _gorgeous_  man that had just moved into the apartment next to hers last week, she would’ve laughed at them.

And yet, that is exactly where she finds herself.

A flash of lightning illuminates her living area, where they are curled onto the couch.  He snuggles closer into her.

_What the fuck is happening?_

*             *             *

She had planned on spending this rainy spring Saturday busying herself with housework – laundry, cleaning, vacuuming, anything else she saw that needed done.  Instead, she ended up on the couch under a blanket, watching a cooking show and trying to read a book, throwing in an occasional snooze or two.

Her last nap was ended by a frantic knock at her door.  She stretched, confused.  She hadn’t been expecting anyone.

And there he was, standing on the other side, a cautious look on his face as he gazed at her.

“Hello?” she questioned.

“Um.  Can I use your bathroom?  My toilet’s…broken.”

She eyed him suspiciously, and decided his expression looked urgent enough.  So she stepped aside and let him in.

“Down the hall and to the left.”

She poured herself a glass of juice and stood in the kitchen, waiting.  It had started to storm while she had been napping, and she looked out the window at the grey-black sky over the city.  She heard the toilet flush under a peal of thunder, and he reappeared a minute later.

“Thanks,” he told her, hint of a Russian accent in his voice, which she recognized from all those skating lessons in high school.  “You saved my life.”

She shrugged, and sipped her juice, expecting him to show himself out.

“You’re Meryl, right?”

She nodded.  She had introduced herself on the first day he moved in.  She wracked her brain, and then she grimaced.

“Sorry, I don’t remember your name.  I’m terrible with names, I swear.”

“Oh, it’s cool.  I’m Maks.”

He smiled, but his eyes still looked panicked.  And he seemed…jittery.  What was wrong with him?

_Oh well,_ she thought _, he’ll be gone in a minute anyways._

“What kind of juice is that?”

She tried to hide her confusion at his question as she stared down into her glass.

“Um.  White grape peach.”

“Sounds good.”

“Yeah.”

A goodbye had to be coming next.

“Can I have some?”

She hesitated for a moment.

“Uh, yeah.  I guess so.”

She scrunched up her face as she turned to the fridge and got a glass for him.  Who had she let into her home and why did they want her juice?

She poured the drink and handed it to him.  He took a sip, and then held up the glass appreciatively.

“Wow.  This is good.”

“Yep,” she answered, popping her lips.

Silence overcame them. She finally said it.

“So, are you going to leave?”

He laughed nervously.

“About that.”

_What the fuck?_

“I was thinking since my toilet’s, uh, broken, I could stay here for maybe an hour or so, until someone comes to fix it.”

She stared at him incredulously.

“What?” she asked flatly.

He laughed again, scratching the back of his neck.

All of the sudden, a clap of thunder boomed, and lightning brightened the apartment.  She heard his glass shatter onto the hardwood floor.

“Aw shit,” he muttered. “I dropped my glass.”

“What the fuck,” she groaned, aloud this time.  She ran into her room to get a pair of flip-flops and grabbed her broom out of the closet.  When she got back, he was picking up glass with his fingers.

“Stop that!” she shouted, running over to the mess and crouching down next to him.  “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

She noticed again the wobbliness of his hands as he placed what he had gathered in her dustpan.

“Why are your hands so shaky?  Are you on drugs or something?  Is that why you wanted to use my bathroom?  To hide your drugs in there?”

“No!” he exclaimed.

“Then tell me what the hell is going on!”

“ _Fuck,”_ he moaned, putting his head in his hands.  “Aw, fuck it.  I’m scared of lightning.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but her words died in her throat.  She hadn’t been expecting that answer.

“You’re…sacred of lightning?”

“Yes,” he mumbled.

“Like storm lightning?”

“Yes.”

She stared off, contemplating his revelation.

“Huh.  Interesting.”

“Yeah.  And it’s storming outside, so I’m not having much fun,” he explained rapidly.  “So I made up an excuse to come in your apartment.  And then I was going to procrastinate leaving as long as I could before you kicked me out.”

“Wait.  So your toilet’s not broken?”

“No,” he shook his head.

And she started laughing.

“Hey, don’t laugh at me,” he told her.

But she could hear the hint of amusement in his voice too.

“Sure,” she decided, “what the hell.  You can stay until the storm is over.  Why not?”

“Thank you.”

And they went on to clean the mess of glass.

And they laughed all the while.

*             *             *

After they were done cleaning, she led him to the living area.  They both sat down on the couch.

Thunder and lightning raged outside.  He jumped.

“Just an fyi, I might end up holding your hand.”

She gulped.  Is that where she should draw the line?

She glanced over at him, and he was staring at her like a puppy, pouty lips, sad eyes and all.

_Oh fuck, he’s hot._

So she took initiative, and grabbed his hand out of his lap.

“I’ll never let go, Jack,” she sighed dramatically.

He smirked.

“You better not, Rose.”

*             *             *

“May I ask,” she inquired as they were sitting there, “why you are afraid of lightning?”

He exhaled loudly.

“I had a bad experience.”

“Which was…?” she probed.

“ _I had a bad experience.”_

“What?  You’re not going to tell me?”

“Oh, I’ll tell you,” he assured her.  “When I can be sure you’re not a mean stranger who will expose all my deepest secrets.”

She laughed.

“Okay.  Fair enough.”

*             *             *

She dozed off again, because it was one of those kinds of days.  When she wakes, they are wrapped around each other.  She doesn’t know whether he’s awake at first, but a bolt of lightning flashes and he scoots closer to her.  So he’s awake.

She doesn’t really know what the fuck is happening, but she’s beginning to not mind it so much.

“Hey, Maks?” she whispers.

“Yeah, Meryl?”

“Are you going to pay me back?  For all this comforting?”

He hums.

“Depends on how you want me to pay you.”

Sh considers it.  He is kind of weird.  But so is she, really, and he makes her laugh.

Plus, he is  _really hot_.

“How about a date?” she proposes.

He laughs.

“I think that could be arranged.”

“Don’t worry,” she says, patting his arm.  “We’ll make sure to go when it’s not storming.”

“Thank you, Meryl.”

And she smiles.

 


End file.
